Hunting With Dad
by Marina1327
Summary: Set in Fall of 1997. John and the boys go to West Virginia on a hunting trip after 6 people disappear without a trace. This is my first attempt at Supernatural Fan Fic. If you are looking for a story where John is a complete meanie...this isn't it. I don't see him that way.


Dean got up from the ground and brushed off his clothes. "Son of a bitch!"

"What's the matter, Big Brother?" Sam teased with a huge triumphant grin. "Getting a little soft?" It wasn'toften that the lanky, awkward teen was able to get the best of his more experienced older brother during a fight and he was going to make the most of the situation. "Maybe you need to do a little weight lifting?"

The elder brother ignored the snarky comments from the youngest Winchester. That is until he came over and squeezed Dean's bicep. "Seems a little flabby."

"I'll show you flabby," Dean replied as he tackled him to the ground and the two of them began wrestling around in the newly fallen foliage that was common for this time of year.

"BOYS!"Came the booming voice of John Winchester. "Mind telling me what it is you two are doing?"

The boys immediately stopped their tom foolery as that was the best thing to do when asked a question by the dark haired man standing before them. "Uh…Dad…we were just…uh…"

"Practicing our fighting skills," Sam finished Dean's sentence.

John eyed his two boys who were now upright and covered in dried leaves. "Looked to me that you were goofing around instead of doing the job I assigned to both of you."

"We were just having a little fun, Dad."

"Now isn't the time for fun, Sammy…I gave you a job to do and that's what I expect you to do…you can have fun when the work is finished."

"You don't have to get so bent out of shape."

"I'm not bent out of shape, Sam. I just expect my orders to be followed. How else can I keep you safe when we are on a hunt?"

"We aren't on a hunt now, Dad."

"Doesn't matter….the job we do is dangerous…and…" John softened his tone slightly, "It's my job to make sure you do what needs to be done when I say it….it can be the difference between life or death, Sammy…"

Sam rolled his eyes. "You need to lighten up sometimes…damn…"

"Mind repeating that last bit, young man?" John asked as he took a step closer to his youngest.

Dean sighed and inched in closer to his brother putting a hand on his chest to halt him from getting any closer to their father. "Dad, it was my fault…I started it…I'm sorry…Sammy and me will finish cleaning the weapons right now….right, Sammy?" He gave a half pleading, half threatening look to his brother.

Sam held his father's gaze for a few seconds longer and then conceded. "Yeah…right…sure…Dean."

John glared at his eldest son. "Dean, you are the oldest….you are supposed to set an example…understand?"

Dean swallowed hard and nodded.

"When I give you a job to do…I want it done…none of this stupid childish nonsense…you hear?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. When you are done with the weapons, I want you to check the supplies and then go into town for anything we are low on."

Dean sighed inwardly as he was planning on heading out to the old Watkins place to meet up with Debbie for a little romp in the hay. But maybe there would still be time after the supply run for a side trip…all hopes were dashed with the next words from the eldest Winchester.

"And take your brother along…"

_Shit _Dean thought, but he knew better than to argue with the old man. "Okay, Dad." He grabbed his brother's arm. "Come on, Sammy…we got work to do!"

"Take it easy, Dean, " Samprotested and pulled from his brother's grip.

"You are a jackass, you know that?" Dean threw Sam the rifle from the rickety old picnic table.

"Me? I'm the jackass?...Dad's the jackass…."

Why do you always have to provoke him?"

Sam grabbed the rag and began rubbing it over the barrel. "And why do you always kiss his ass?"

"I DO NOT…" Dean took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "Look, Sammy…Dad is just trying to teach us the right way to do our jobs. He knows his stuff…maybe you should stop fighting him so hard all the time and listen to him. Maybe show some respect."

"Listen, Dean…in a few years I will be away from Dad and this life….I won't need any of this."

"You are still serious about leaving?"

Sam looked directly at his brother. "Damn, right…I'm serious…I want something better than this life and if you had half a brain you would too."

Dean thought about that for a moment. Maybe Sam had a point, but this was the only life he had ever known and honestly he enjoyed it most days. "Just lighten up on the old man, would ya? He ain't the enemy, Sammy."

"It's Sam."

"SAM!" Dean got up from the table and puffed himself up and lowered his voice. "SAM!" He walked around like Frankenstein. "SAM….me…SAM…."

"Jerk!" Sam threw the greasy rag at his brother.

"Bitch!" Dean grinned.

"Look John, all I know is six people have mysteriously vanished in the last month. I think it's worth checking out."

John rubbed his fingers over his beard and switched the phone to his other ear. "Alright, Bobby…me and the boys will head down to West Virginia and look into it."

Bobby sighed. "Why don't you leave Sam here with me? I can look after the boy while you're gone."

"No…we might need Sam on this one."

"But the boy's only 14, John…little young still to be huntin'."

"We've been over this before." John let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm his father, Bobby."

Bobby shook his head. "Call me if you need anything."

"Will do."

"Jackass!" Bobby said after he put down the receiver.

"Dean, I don't think the fall edition of Busty Asian Beauties is on the supply list."

Dean grinned. "Sammy, you know what your problem is?"

"What?"

"You don't appreciate the finer things in life. Look at Miss November…now tell me she isn't a masterpiece?"

Sam wrinkled his nose and squinted. "What is she doing with that cucumber?"

"It's a zucchini, genius…and I believe she is…"

"Boys!"

Dean and Sam turned around upon hearing their father's voice. "Bobby called…he has a job for us."

"Where, Dad?"

"Point Pleasant, West Virginia, Sammy. Six people have vanished without a trace in the past month."

"Anything supernatural reported?"

"Not sure, Dean. Bobby didn't have a lot to go on, but I told him we would check it out. Are you finished getting the supplies?"

"Yes sir…we were just picking up some grub."

"Is that a cucumber?" John asked with a hugegrin.

Sam returned his father's grin. "Zucchini."

Dean quickly closed the magazine. "I'm really thirsty….how about you, Sammy? "

"No, not really." Sam was enjoying seeing his brother squirm.

Dean threw the magazine back on the rack and grabbed his brother. "Meet you outside, Dad."

John chuckled to himself, grabbed a few things including the fall edition of Busty Asian Beauties and headed out to his truck.

"I don't understand, Dad…why can't I stay here with Uncle Bobby?"

John took a deep breath. "Because you need the practice, Sammy. You haven't been on the last four hunts…it's time you join us."

"But I have school and I wanted to go to the game Saturday."

"There will be other football games, Sam. It's important that you come along with me and your brother as much as you can….how else are you going to learn to be as good as he is?"

Dean smiled upon hearing his father's compliment. It wasn't often he heard his father say nice things about him. In fact, he wasn't even sure if John meant it or was just saying that to get Sam to stop arguing with him, but he would take it.

Sam shook his head. "Maybe I don't want to be as good as Dean is…hell…maybe I don't want to be a hunter at all!"

"Sammy, I am not going to have this argument with you right now. I am your father and you will obey me!" John stepped closer to his son and looked him square in the eyes. "Now I have given you a direct order!"

Sam knew better than to push his father any farther at this point. "Yes sir," he replied respectfully and headed off to pack his duffel.

"Sometimes I don't know what to do with that boy!" John said in frustration to Dean who was busy checking the weapons in the trunk of the impala.

"He's just a kid, Dad."

"He is a Winchester and it's about time he started acting like one."

Dean grinned. "I am pretty sure that's exactly what he is doing."

"What was that, boy?"

"Nothing."

John smiled and put a hand on his son's back. "You're right. We are leaving in twenty minutes."

"Because you….you shook me all night long…." Dean drummed on the steering wheel and sang along to the music.

"You gonna sing all the way to West Virginia?"

"Yep!"

"Come on, Dean…can't we ever just talk or something?"

Dean turned down the radio. "Okay, what do you wanna talk about?"

"I don't know…"

"I saw you with Emily Pierson out behind the bleachers last Friday night…" Dean put on a very serious face. "Do we need to have the birds and bees talk, Sammy?"

"Shut up, jerk…"

"What?" Dean feigned innocence, "you said you wanted to talk?"

"Not about that…besides we were just talking anyway."

"Oh really? Looked like you had your tongue in her mouth from where I was standing."

Sam blushed slightly. "Were you spying on me?"

"It's called reconnaissance, Sammy….very important skill to have."

"You are such an ass…you aren't going to tell Dad about me and Emily are you?"

"Depends…"

"On?"

"What's in it for me?"

"How about that I don't tell Dad you really lost your gun out at the old Watkins place when you were with…"

Dean put up a menacing finger. "Sam…I will hurt you."

Sam giggled.

John turned into the parking lot of the Chubby Pirate a little greasy spoon off the interstate. The boys followed and pulled up along side their father. "I'm starving…what about you boys?" He asked as he closed the truck door and smiled at his sons.

"I was getting ready to eat Sammy."

Sam punched his brother on his arm and Dean put him into a headlock.

"Let me go!"

"Say it."

"No way!"

Dean gripped him a little tighter. "Say it!"

"Okay okay…Dean Winchester is awesome."

With one last noogie, Dean grinned and let his little brother go.

John just shook his head. "Are you two finished? I would like to eat while I'm still young."

Dean winked at Sam. "But you haven't been young ina long while, Dad."

"Get!" John laughed and chased them into the restaurant.

"Seriously? What kind of restaurant doesn't have cheeseburgers?" Dean frowned as he perused the menu.

"How about calamari? I'm sure you would like that," Sam suggested with a grin.

"What the hell is that?"

"Squid."

Dean grimaced and shook his head. "Ain't no freaking way I'm eating anything that shoots ink out of its ass."

John and Sam laughed as the middle-aged waitress came to the table. "You boys ready to order?"

"Yes ma'am, I'll have the fish and chips and whatever's on tap." John handed the lady back his menu.

"Me too." Sam handed the lady back his menu.

Dean sighed. "Make it three."

"Coke okay for you two?"

Sam smiled. "Yes ma'am, thank you."

Dean just sighed again.

Awhile later, John sat on the edge of his bed watching his boys sleep under the hideously colored and well-worn hotel quilt. The two of them face down dead to the world Sam's hand just touching his older brother's arm. He loved them more than life itself, but he often doubted that he was doing right by them. However, after witnessing the death of his wife and the evil he had seen since then…he just knew he had to make sure they were ready and prepared to survive…even if it meant he had to be a tough son of a bitch to do it. He pulled off his boots and ran his fingers over his face. Smiling he tucked the quilt up on his boys before turning in himself for a few hours of shut eye.

"You going to sleep all day?" John teased as he patted Dean's leg.

Dean opened his eyes to see Sam's face plastered right next to him on the same pillow. "Dude…ever hear of personal space?" He shoved Sam's head back to his own pillow which earned him a kick.

"Enough!" John bellowed.

Dean and Sam immediately stopped fighting and looked at their father.

"We've got a lot of ground to cover, gentlemen. Let's keep the nonsense to a minimum."

"Yes sir," they answered in unison and got out of bed.

"What do you want with us?" The dirt covered young woman asked as she struggled with her bindings.

The shadowy figured lurked in the darkness ignoring the girl's question and continued mixing the strange brew of liquids.

"Let us go! You can't keep us here! Do you know who my father is? "

"Would you be quiet!" The elderly gentlemen sitting on the dirty cement floor next to her hissed. "You want to make him mad?"

"Don't tell me to shut up, old man," the girl hissed back. "This freak needs to let us go!" She continued to struggle with her bindings.

Before the girl could say another word, a blade slashed her throat splashing her warm blood everywhere including on the glasses of the elderly gentleman. "Oh God…." he cried out in shock and turned away as the girl's blood ran down her neck mixing with the dirt on her skin and soaking her once very expensive and very white silk blouse. "Oh God…"

After eating a hearty dinner of cheeseburgers, fries and cherry pie, the boys headed out to the parking lot. John threw Dean the keys to his truck. "I want to ride with your brother for a bit, Dean."

Sam looked nervously at Dean who reached in his pocket and tossed John the keys to the impala. "Let's go, Sammy."

Sam nodded and got into the front seat. John pulled out onto the roadway followed closely by his other son. Father and son sat silently for a few moments before John finally spoke. "Listen, Sammy…I just wanted to make sure we are clear on what I expect from you on this hunt?"

Sam took a deep breath and made sure his tone was respectful before he answered. He was trying to do as Dean had asked of him and lighten up a bit. "Yes sir."

"Because I have no idea what we are walking into here and the goal is that you, me and your brother all come back alive."

"I know, Dad and I promise I will listen to you and Dean and try not to screw up."

"Good boy." John nodded and smiled. "So anything you want to tell your old man?"

Sam fidgeted nervously. "No sir, not that I can think of right now."

"You sure?"

"I'm pretty sure, Dad." Sam wrinkled his forehead trying to figure out where his father was going with this line of questioning.

"Nothing about you and Dean and…"

"Dean looked everywhere for his gun, Dad, I swear…even under Debby's bra," Sam blurted out before he realized what he said.

"He what?" John immediately drove the impala off the road, dirt flying up from the tires. Dean skidded up behind him and stopped.

"Boy, get out of that truck immediately!"

Dean gulped nervously and got out of the truck. He stood straight and looked his father in the eyes.

"Of all the stupid, irresponsible, idiotic…." John paced back and forth.

"Dad…whatever…I…"

"Quiet!"

Dean nodded and lowered his head slightly.

"You lost your gun during a little roll in the hay with Debby Watkins?"

Dean looked at Sam who gave his brother an 'I'm sorry' look. He wasn't sure if he should answer his father's question or remain silent. "Yes sir."

"Then instead of telling me the truth…you make up some ridiculous story and get your brother to cover for you? How do you expect me to trust you when you lie to me? And losing your gun? Really? How in the hell are you supposed to protect Sammy unarmed? Foolish boy…you really disappoint me! "

"I'm sorry, Dad…I…"

"Save it…let's go!" John walked past his son and got into the truck, slamming the door shut.

Dean stood there for a second before getting into the impala. Sam slid back into the front seat and watched his brother wipe at the tears that threatened to come.

"Dean…I'm…"

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean hissed and turned up the radio. He wiped at his eyes again and concentrated on driving, leaving his brother to sit in silence.

Sometime later, they crossed the border into West Virginia and drove the last leg to Point Pleasant. After a quick bite and another stop for gas, they finally pulled into the parking lot of the Hotel Garcia.

"Let's get some sleep," John said after checking them in using one of his many fake credit cards.

Dean and Sam grabbed their gear and headed into the gaudily decorated hotel room. Sam wrinkled his nose at the huge sombrero that was hanging from the ceiling.

Dean raised his eyebrows upon spying the lamps. "Are they jalapenos?"

"Unfortunately," Sam replied and threw his stuff onto the multi colored quilt.

"Yo quiero taco bell!" Dean teased in his best Spanish accent.

Sam laughed, but the joke fell flat on his father who was still not happy with either of his sons.

"Get your gear stowed and hit the sack," John ordered and pulled off his boots.

"Yes sir," the boys answered obediently and got ready for bed.

Dean was up earlier than his roommates the next morning. He quickly got dressed and ran out to the nearest convenient store for coffee and the local papers.

"Where the hell have you been?" John demanded when Dean entered the room.

"I figured we could start by seeing what the papers are saying, Dad," Dean said hoping to lighten his father's mood and handed John his coffee.

"Good idea." Sam got up and grabbed one of the papers. "Hot chocolate?"

"Of course," Dean smiled and grabbed the other paper. He sat down on the bed, putting his cup on the night stand.

"Leave a note next time." John grabbed one of the papers and hastily opened it up.

Dean smiled nervously but didn't say anything. He went back to flipping through the paper.

After a few minutes of reading, Sam found an interesting article. "Hey, look at this." Sam brought the paper over to his father. "One of the people missing is the heiress to the JH Tipton fortune," he continued reading, "a local business man who made millions in toilet paper."

Dean grinned. "Seriously?"

"Yep, apparently their motto is "Tipton Toilet Paper…we're behind you 100 percent."

Dean and Sam lost it completely.

"Boys!"

"Sorry, Dad…" Dean apologized through his laughter.

John took the paper from his son and continued reading. "Says she disappeared a week ago on 'Breakneck Road. Her car was found abandoned, her purse and other valuables on the front seat."

"So what's the plan?"

"You and Sammy go out to Breakneck Road and check it out. I am going to go talk to Mr. Tipton and see if he knows anything else."

Sam and Dean nodded in acknowledgement and everyone headed off.

About forty minutes later, John arrived at the Tipton Estate. He rang the buzzer and a crackly voice came over the intercom. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, my name is George Hannibal. I am with the Point Pleasant Gazette. I would like to speak with Mr. Tipton about what happened with his daughter?"

After a few moments, the iron gates opened and John pulled his truck up the huge horseshoe shaped driveway. He just shook his head at the enormous golden toilet paper statue on the front lawn, thinking Dean and Sam would have laughed themselves sick over it. He knocked on the front door and greeted the butler politely. "Hello, sir." He flashed his fake press badge and quickly put it back inside his jacket.

"Mr. Tipton is in the study, please follow me."

John nodded and followed the elderly gentleman into the lavishly decorated room.

"Sir, there is a Mr. Hannibal here to see you."

"JH Tipton," the man put out his hand, "nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Tipton," John replied and shook the man's hand. "I know this is a very sad time for your family, but I would like to ask you a few questions about your daughter's disappearance?"

JH nodded and indicated for John to sit. "I'm not sure what else I can tell you that I haven't already told the police, Mr. Hannibal."

"What's the last communication you had with your daughter, sir?"

"She called me just before midnight to tell me that she was broken down on Breakneck Road. Her car just stopped."

John wrote down what he said. "Did anything strange happen before that?"

JH looked at him confused. "Strange?"

"Yes, like did she hear anything or smell anything weird?"

"Well, come to think of it…she said that all the lights came on in her car and the radio had a lot of static and then the car just shut off. I assumed it was the goofy electronics in these modern foreign cars nowadays. I told her to stay in the car and I would have help to her as soon as I could…then the call went dead." JH wiped at his eyes. "That's the last I heard from her."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Tipton. I am sure the police are doing all they can to find your daughter."

JH rubbed his hands over his face. "I hope so, I love that girl more than life itself. If anything were to…" he didn't finish the sentence.

"One last question if you don't mind?"

JH nodded.

"Did your daughter know any of the other people who disappeared?"

"Not that I am aware of, but I couldn't say for sure. Marcy had a wide circle of friends."

John got up and offered his hand to JH. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Tipton. I appreciate you seeing me during this difficult time."

JH smiled. "The pleasure was mine, Mr. Hannibal."

John returned the man's smile and left.

Dean pulled the impala across from where the paper said Marcy's car had been found. "This is the spot."

"What exactly are we looking for, Dean?"

"Clues."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I know that, smartass…what kind of clues?"

"Anything out of the ordinary." The boys began scouring the brush along the side of the road.

"Hey Dean, look at this," Sam said and held up the syringe.

"Be careful, Sammy, that could have poison in it or something." Dean took the syringe and wrapped it in a handkerchief. He placed it in the trunk of the impala. "Let's keep looking."

"It's just a lot of nothing."

Dean looked around. "Pretty good spot to kidnap someone…nothing around here for miles." He scanned the horizon. "Just fields and trees and more fields. Hey, why don't you go talk to that cow over there, maybe she saw something…mind your manners though….you don't want to piss her off…she might give sour milk."

Sam shook his head. "Very funny."

"Mooooooooooooooooooo…" Dean grinned and ducked when Sam threw a stick at him.

Sam headed off into the field. A few minutes later, he tripped over something. "What the hell?" He got up and noticed a foot sticking out of some bushes. "DEAN! DEAN!"

Dean immediately grabbed his gun from his waistband and headed off in the direction of his brother's urgent cries. "Sammy? Sammy?"

"Over here!"

"What? What's the matter?"

"Look." Sam pointed to the foot.

Dean put his gun away and knelt down next to the elderly lady. "Ma'am, can you hear me?" He put his hand near her nose. "She still alive…we have to stop this bleeding and get her to the hospital!" He reached down and scooped the woman up in his arms. "Go open the back door, Sammy!Look in the trunk for a blanket and grab anything you can use as a bandage."

Sammy nodded and ran to the impala, quickly doing as instructed.

Dean gently laid the woman on the back seat. He grabbed the rags from his brother and placed them over the wound on the lady's head. "Sammy, keep pressure on this wound and keep the blanket on her as best you can. She is in shock, you have to keep her warm." Dean took off his jacket and bunched it up. He put it under her legs to elevate them and jumped in the front seat. "Hang on!"

"Are you boys, okay?" John asked upon arriving at the hospital. He hugged each of his sons who smiled and returned their father's affection.

"We are fine, Dad." Dean pointed down the hall. "Not so sure about the lady though. She looked in pretty bad shape when we found her."

"She was just laying there in the middle of the field?"

"Yes sir," Dean replied and nodded. "Sam tripped over her leg, she was half buried in the bushes."

"Dean saved her, Dad, he knew exactly what to do," Sam beamed,obviously proud of his big brother.

John smiled and squeezed Dean's shoulder. "Good job, son."

"Sammy helped too, Dad, he did what he was told," Dean ruffled Sam's hair and winked, "for a change."

Sam smiled and slapped Dean's hand a way. "Jerk."

"Let me go ask about the lady, see how she is…be right back."

"Okay, Dad."

A few minutes later, John returned. "Mrs. Harris is up and awake and she wants to talk to the two heroes who saved her life."

"Hero," Dean rubbed his hands together. "Finally, someone seeing me for who I really am."

John put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Let's go, hero, and mind your manners."

Sam giggled.

"You too, boy."John knocked softly on the door jam. "Mrs. Harris?"

The elderly lady smiled weakly. "Yes."

"We just came by to see how you were? My sons are the boys that found you."

Mrs. Harris brightened. "Oh…please…come closer."

Dean and Sam stepped closer to the bed and smiled at the lady.

"My aren't you two just as handsome as you can be," Mrs. Harris commented much to the embarrassment of the boys.

"Thank you, ma'am." Dean smiled shyly. "How are you feeling?"

"I will live…a little scratch isn't going to stop me…I'm an ornery old bird or so my husband says."

The boys laughed.

John smiled. "Mrs. Harris, if you don't mind me asking…can you tell us how you found yourself way out in the middle of nowhere?"

"I don't remember."

"Can you tell us what you do remember?"

"Phillip and I were coming back from visiting friends about midnight last night when the car started going crazy. Lights coming on, static on the radio and then it shut off and then you are going to think I'm senile…but…I swear I saw a pair of glowing red eyes staring at me from in front of the car."

"And your husband?"

"Oh my God….Phillip….I've been so woozy…I don't know where he is….I have to find him…he needs hisinsulin!" Mrs. Harris started to get up, but Dean put a hand on her shoulder.

"You can't do that!" Dean said forcefully, but then softened his tone. "Uh…ma'am…you need to rest. We will go look for him. Where were you when your car stopped?"

"Little Creek Road, near the old Platt Bridge, but I don't want to bother you boys, you've helped enough already."

John smiled. "It's no bother, Mrs. Harris, my sons and I are more than glad to help. We will find your husband…don't you worry. You just get better…you hear?"

nodded and smiled. "Thank you."

"Sammy, I want you to head to the library and research any incidents involving creatures with glowing red eyes in and around this area. See if there has been any sightings reported. Dean and I will head out to Little Creek Road and see if we can find Mr. Harris."

"Okay, Dad."

"Let's go, son," John ordered.

Dean tossed John the keys to the impala and they both got in and sped off.

"What did Mr. Tipton have to say?"

"He basically gave the same description of what happened to the Harris' car."

"Did he mention glowing red eyes?"

"No, but I am sure there is a connection."

"Well hopefully Sammy will find something in the library."

John nodded.

After a few minutes of silence, Dean contemplated whether or not he should broach the subject of his gun or just leave it rest in peace, but he couldn't let it go. "Dad…I…I… was wrong to lie about how I lost my gun," he stuttered out, "but I was ashamed because I know it was irresponsible to lose it in the first place. I should have been man enough to tell you the truth." Dean sniffed back his tears. "I would give my life to protect Sammy…please, sir…don't ever doubt that." He looked out of the window. "I'm really sorry… I let you down…it won't happen again."

John wanted to reach out and comfort his boy, but he decided that this was one lesson he needed his son to learn the hard way. "See to it that is doesn't."

"Yes sir," Dean replied quietly and continued staring out of the window.

Sam sat down at the computer and typed in glowing red eyes and Point Pleasant, West Virginia and numerous sites popped up. "The what?" he said too loud and was shushed by the librarian. He started looking through the sites, writing down some stuff and printing out some pages. "Dean's never gonna believe this one."

John pulled the impala close to the Harris' SUV. "Mr. Harris?" he called out. "Answer me?" He looked at Dean and motioned for him to go down by the bridge. "Phillip?"

"Mr. Harris?" Dean called out as well. He climbed down the incline and began searching near the river. "Mr. Harris…are you here?"

They scoured the surrounding area for about an hour. John met Dean near the bridge and helped him to the top. "I don't think he is out here anywhere, son."

Dean put his hands on his hips and caught his breath. "I don't think so either, Dad."

"I'm really worried, if he is diabetic…he can get very sick…especially at his age."

Just then a light bulb went off in Dean's head. "Diabetic?" He ran to the impala and popped the trunk, grabbing out the syringe in the handkerchief. "Sam found this near where Marcy's car was…you think she was diabetic?"

"Good question, son…I don't know." John looked at the Harris' SUV. "Let's see if we can get her started."

Dean popped the hood and began fiddling around in the engine. "Looks like a dead battery." After giving the battery a jumpstart, the engine roared to life.

John and Dean looked up from the engine when they heard the siren. The officer got out the cruiser and came up to them. "Mind telling me what you two are doing?"

John smiled. "Just helping out a friend, Sherriff."

"The owner of this car has been reported as missing. You wouldn't know anything about that… would you?"

"Actually yes, my son," he put a hand on Dean's shoulder, "is the boy who found Mrs. Harris and got her to the hospital. She asked us to help her find her husband. We've been looking for over an hour with no luck. We were trying to see what caused the car problems in the first place…was just a dead battery."

The Sheriff smiled at Dean. "That was a good thing you did today, son."

Dean really really disliked most officers of the law as they normally were more of a pain in the ass than a help. "Thank you," he felt his father tighten his grip on his shoulder, "sir," he added reluctantly.

"Sherriff, I am really worried about Phillip…Mrs. Harris said he is diabetic."

"I know and it's the damndest thing," the Sherriff put his hands on his hips, "they all are."

"All who?"

"Everyone that went missing."

John and Dean glanced at each other. "Well, surely there has to be a connection?" John asked.

"We are investigating any possible connection." The Sherriff took a quick look around. "Now, I am going to have to ask you boys to leave. This is an official crime scene. I can't have civilians messing up the area."

"Of course, Sherriff," John replied. "Come on, son."

"I can't have civilians messing up the area," Dean said mockingly as he opened the door to the impala. He put on a fake smile and waved. "Bye Sherriff."

John sighed. "Boy, get in this car."

Dean quickly got in and smiled nervously at his father.

"How many times have we discussed this, young man? You cannot piss off the cops."

"But they are assclowns, Dad."

John put his hand over his face. "Lord, if you are listening…please give me the strength not to kill the boy."

"It must be the badges or something…when I see them…I just totally forget everything you taught me. It's like some alien comes in and takes over me."

"Are you finished?"

Dean cleared his throat and looked down, a devilish grin hidden from his father. "Yes sir."

"Good. When we get back to town, I want you to go get Sammy and then meet me back at the hotel. I have something I want to check out at the hospital."

"What is it?"

"Just a hunch." John didn't say anything more and Dean knew better than to ask.

"Adduc eum ad me, vitam aeternam," the figure chanted. "Quid mihi opus est a creaturis ego has." He drank down the strange brew and slurped down the bloody raw organ meat in his left hand. "Non enim omne iudicium animabus infirmabitur." He cackled evilly as blood dripped down his mouth and onto his neck.

"The what?"

"Mothman, Dean." Sam held up the picture. "Says he is at least 7 foot tall, with huge wings and glowing red eyes and he was first spotted in this area in the sixties, but I found some reports that say people have reported sightings of a huge moth like creature since the early 1800's."

"A huge moth, huh?"Dean grinned. "Great so all we need to kill him is a gigantic bug zapper."

"You are so lame."

"That was damn funny….come on."

Sam didn't comment, but couldn't help but smile.

"So what else does it say?"

Sam flipped through the pages. "Well, from the legend he seems to appear just before a tragedy. On December 15, 1967 the Silver Bridge here in Point Pleasant collapsed killing 46 people. There were reports that people saw the mothman standing on the top of the bridge before it collapsed."

"Hmm…well let's see what Dad thinks." Dean pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. "Let's go organize everything we have found so far and order a pizza. I'm starving."

"Me too."

John smiled at the lady behind the reception desk. "How do you do, ma'am, my name is Jeff Patton. I was wondering does your hospital offer any diabetic classes…say on nutrition or something similar?"

The lady returned John's smile. "Why of course we do, Mr. Patton. In fact, we have a Diabetic support group that meets every Tuesday at 6 p.m." She handed him some pamphlets. "It's run by a lovely gentleman. You can learn a great deal about how to live with this disease."

"Thank you. I appreciate the information."

"You're welcome. I hope to see you again."

John nodded and then headed up to check in with Mrs. Harris.

Dean stepped back and smiled. "Well not too shabby, little brother," he said as he eyed the collage of maps, drawings, pictures and other clues Sam had hung on the wall.

"You think Dad will like it? I tried to make it look exactly like he does it."

"I'm sure Dad will be impressed."

"Impressed with what?" John asked as he came in the room carrying the pizza. "I assume this is yours?" he asked, handing the boys the pizza he got from the delivery man.

Dean grabbed the pizza, quickly opened the box and began munching.

"With the way I organized the clues, Dad…I tried to do it just like you."

John looked at the wall and smiled. "You did a fine job, son…just fine."

"Thank you."

"I actually have a few more to add." John hung the pamphlet for the diabetic courses on the wall and also the names Marcy Tipton and Phillip Harris. "I stopped by the hospital to see Mrs. Harris and it turns out Phillip and Marcy were in this support group together as were the other victims." John took a slice from the box. "So, tell me more about this mothman, Sammy?"

Dean grinned. "We are gonna need a gigantic bug zapper, Dad…only way to kill it."

Sam shook his head. "It wasn't funny the first time you said it, Dean."

"It was a little funny." Dean pouted.

"Eat your pizza."

"Yes sir," Dean replied with a mouthful of pepperoni.

John took the pamphlet of the wall and found the phone number of the man who conducts the class. "I am going to go talk to the man who runs this class." He changed into his suit and tie.

"What do you want us to do, Dad?" Sam asked.

"Right now I want you boys to finish eating and keep sorting through this mothman lore."

Sam nodded. "Yes sir."

A little while later, John pulled up to the small run down house set high on a hill. He grabbed his fake FBI badge from the glove compartment and slipped it into his suit coat. He climbed up the steps and knocked on the door.

A man answered. "Yes, can I help you?"

"Frank Larson?"

"Yes."

"I'm Agent Washington." John flashed his badge. "I spoke with you earlier on the phone?"

"Oh, yes, please come in, Agent." Frank opened the door wide and motioned for John to come inside.

"Thank you, Mr. Larson."

"Can I get you anything, coffee perhaps?"

"No sir, thank you…I would like to discuss the disappearance of the members of your diabetic class?"

Frank sighed and sat down on the sofa. "I don't know what to tell you, Agent Washington. We've lost seven people. At first we didn't think anything of it…just coincidence, but then as more disappeared...everyone got really nervous. In fact, I just got a call from the hospital…they have decided to cancel the group until further notice."

John nodded. "I can understand, Mr. Larson. Can you tell me…anyone in the group seem odd or strange to you? Make you feel uncomfortable?"

"No, no, not at all…you don't think someone in the group is responsible for the disappearances?"

"Right now, Mr. Larson, we are just investigating all possible leads. You wouldn't happen to have a member list? I accidently left my copy back at HQ." John smiled. "It's been one of those days."

"Yes, I do…let me get it." Frank went over to his desk and grabbed the paper from the binder. "Here you are."

"Thank you, sir, and please, if you can think of anything at all that would be of help to our investigation." John handed Frank his card. "Call me, day or night."

"I will."Frank went out to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He hung John's card on the fridge with a magnet.

John looked at the list which consisted of thirty members. He grabbed his cell and dialed. "Bobby, it's me…can you do me a favor?" He asked as he loosened his tie and threw the fake ID back in the glovebox.

"Shoot."

"Can you run down this list of names for me…see if anything pops up?"

"You know I live to do your bidding, John."

John grinned. "There's a steak dinner in it for you."

"Throw in a bottle of jack and you got yourself a secretary, but don't expect me to wear any short skirts for you."

"With your knobby knees?"

"Hey…ain't nothin' wrong with my knees."

John laughed. "Thanks, old friend!"

John drove back to the hotel and went inside to find the boys hard at work. "Hey Boys."

"Hi Dad," they said together.

"Find anything more?"

Dean shook his head. "No sir, not a lot…you?"

"I got a list of class members from the instructor and asked Bobby to run a background check on everyone. See if anything suspicious pops up."

Sam smiled. "Good job, Dad."

John chuckled. "Thank you, Sammy." He went over to the wall, picked up the marker and circled the area between Breakneck and Little Creek Roads. "This is where Marcy and Phillip disappeared." He also circled two more spots on the map. "According to Mrs. Harris, the other victims disappeared here and here." He put down the marker. "I think we need to go out to this area after dark and do a little poking around."

"Hopefully Chief Wiggum won't be out there."

"Really?"

Dean smiled nervously at his father. "Of course I mean…the highly respected officer of the law."

"Next time I'm leaving you with Uncle Bobby to babysit."

Sam roared with laughter.

"Laugh it up, Little Brother," Dean said and threw an old pizza crust at him.

John joined in on the laughter and pretty soon Dean did as well.

Phillip struggled with his bindings. "Why are you doing this?" He said to the shadows, not sure exactly where his captor was. "I don't understand? Where is my wife? If you hurt her, I swear…"

"You'll what, old man?" The voice came from behind him. "You'll kill me? I don't think so." The boney fingers reached into the wooden bowl, pulled out Marcy's liver dripping with blood and cut it into pieces. "A snack before a long flight," he said and faded into the darkness.

"Gary, would you stop." Lisa giggled and pushed his hands away from her buttons.

"Why?"

"I have to get home, it's getting late."

Gary smiled. "What's a few more minutes?"

"A few more minutes and I'll be grounded for a month."

"Your Dad is so lame."

"He is not, he just worries about me is all, besides I believe you also need to be getting home before your mom skins you alive."

Gary sighed, "freakin' parents." He turned the key, but the car wouldn't start. "Oh great…now what?" The teen got out of the car, popped the hood and fiddled around in the engine. "Try it now, Lisa."

Lisa slid over to the driver's seat and turned the ignition, nothing happened. "Let's call my Dad…he can come help."

"Okay."

Lisa took her cell phone from her purse and dialed. "Daddy, Gary and I are stuck on Mason Rd. The car won't start…okay…we'll wait right here. I love you, Daddy." She put her phone away. "He'll be here in about thirty minutes."

Gary smiled. "Well, looks like we have some time afterall." He reached over and began kissing Lisa passionately. Just then two glowing red eyes appeared.

"Dad! Dad! Look!" Sam yelled, pointing to the sky. "It's the mothman!"

John looked up and saw the huge figure carrying what appeared to be a teenaged boy. "Your brother…where's your brother?" He looked around nervously. "Dean! Answer me now!" John ordered. "Dean!"

"Dean!" Sam shouted. "Dean!"

"Here…I'm right here!" Dean yelled back and ran toward them through the field.

John met him half way and wrapped him in a bear hug.

"I'm okay, Dad…I'm okay." Dean assured his father who held on to him for a few more moments and then let him go. "What's the matter?"

Sam pointed. "The mothman, Dean! He was carrying a boy."

Dean looked up but it was already too late. It had vanished.

"We need to stop this thing before it hurts anyone else," John commented with urgency in his voice.

Sam gazed at the night sky. "How are we supposed to track something that flies?"

John glanced around. "It's got to land sometime, which means it has a nest or lair or someplace it rests and feeds."

"But once we find it, how do we kill it?" Dean asked. "Stake, silver bullet, burn it…we don't have much to go on, Dad."

"So we go prepared. The main thing is we have to stop it."

Sirens wailed in the distance breaking the silence.

"Cops!" Dean said and looked in the direction of where the noise was coming from.

"Let's go, boys."

Sam, John and Dean ran back to the impala which was parked in a grove of trees and headed off to see where the police were going. John pulled the impala off to the side, but out of sight. "Sammy, get the binoculars out of the trunk."

"Yes sir," Sam replied and jumped out. "Here you go, Dad."

John looked down the road. "Looks like a car off to the side of the road. There is a girl in the back of an ambulance. She looks pretty shaken."

"Maybe it was her boyfriend or brother the mothman took?"

"Probably right, Dean."

"So what's our next move?"

John put down the binoculars. "We hunt down this son of a bitch and _**kill**_ it."

After returning to the hotel, packing their gear and catching a couple hours of sleep, the Winchesters piled into the impala and drove as far into the woods as they could."Okay, gentlemen…we go from here on foot." John took an extra gun from the trunk and loaded it. He handed it to Sam. "I expect you to stick close, understand?"

Sam took the gun and stuck it in the waistband of his jeans. "Yes sir."

"I also expect you to obey me and your brother."

"Yes sir."

"Good." They headed off into the dense woods, John in the lead and Dean bringing up the rear, keeping a close eye on his father and brother. Suddenly, John put up a hand and the boys immediately halted. He motioned for them to take cover which they did without hesitation. A few moments later, John realized it was nothing but a deer and motioned for them to move out again.

"Are we ever going to find this damn thing?" Sam asked frustrated at having hiked about five miles already.

Dean grinned. "What's the matter, Little Brother…getting a little soft?"

"No, just tired of looking at trees and grass and more trees."

John realized the troops were getting restless so he decided it was time for a break. "Let's stop here."

"Gladly." Sam put down his pack and plopped down on a fallen tree trunk.

John and Dean followed suit. They all took a drink of water and grabbed a snack. After awhile, John stood up. "Let's go, boys…there's work to do."

The boys nodded, gathered their stuff and resumed hiking.

The mothman closed his eyes and watched the figures in his mind. He knew they were getting closer to his lair. This man and his sons, they were here to stop him…to kill him…somehow he sensed it and he was afraid. He opened his eyes and the red glow pierced the darkness. He knew what he needed to do.

"I have never sung Hanson in the shower or anywhere for that matter."

"Oh, Sammy…I do believe I heard a few Mmmbops coming from you."

"Not true."

Dean grinned. "There is no sense in trying to hide your geekiness, Sammy…it's useless."

"My geekiness? How come you saw Titanic four times?"

"Three little words that you will appreciate when you are older…Kate Winslet's rack."

"Yeah right…all I have to say is you on top of the impala and I'm the King…"

"Sammy!" Dean put a hand over his brother's mouth. "You saw nothing."

Sam elbowed his brother and laughed.

John snickered to himself, enjoying the banter between his boys. It saddened him to stop it, but it was vital that they concentrated on the mission. "Boys?"

"Yes sir?"

"Focus!"

"Yes sir."

The mothman's heart raced with excitement and nervousness as he approached the Winchesters. He knew his timing had to be just right for his plan to work as he waited by one of the secret entrances he had forged to his lair. When Sam walked by, he reached up and grabbed him before John or Dean could even react.

"SAMMY! SAMMY!" Dean ran over to where Sam vanished. "Dad! Help!"

John turned and ran back towards his son. "What?"

"Sammy fell or something…I don't know…he just disappeared!"

John got down on his hands and knees and looked into the darkness. "Sammy! Sammy! Answer me, son!"

Sam couldn't answer because the mothman had his huge hand tightly over the boy's mouth as he disappeared with him into the shadows.

"Flashlight!"

Dean grabbed the light from the bag and handed it to his father. John shined it into the hole. "It looks like a tunnel."

"We have to get Sammy, Dad…don't just sit there…let's go!"

John put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Focus!"

Dean took a deep breath and nodded.

"Okay, then let's go." John climbed in first, dirt falling all around him and he helped Dean down. He shined the flashlight around in the darkness. "Dammit!" He swore upon realizing it was more than one tunnel.

"We have to split up, Dad."

John shook his head. "No way…I'm not letting you out of my sight. We stay together."

"But…"

"That's not a request."

Dean nodded and the two of them headed off into one of the entrances.

After taking many twists and turns, the mothman put Sam down in a makeshift bed of pine needles and other foliage gathered from the woods. Sam immediately drew his weapon and pointed it at the creature. "I'm going to kill you, Freak!" The mothman closed his eyes and concentrated. Sam immediately fell to his knees, grabbing his head in pain.

"Sam! Answer me, son!" John called out as he made his way through the darkness.

"Dad!" Dean yelled, spotting the wooden door. "Help me!"

John came over and the two managed to kick the thick door open. They found Phillip and Gary tied to a pole. "Mr. Harris?" John asked.

"Yes, are you police?"

"No sir, but we are here to help." John put his gun away, immediately untied the old man and helped him to stand.

"Thank you…please hurry before he comes back." Phillip put a hand on John's arm. "My wife?"

John smiled. "She is fine, sir, and she will be happy to see you."

Dean untied Gary and helped the boy to his feet. "What about the others, Mr. Harris?"

Phillip teared up. "All dead…he ate them…those poor people."

John and Dean looked at each other, terrified for Sam. "What's your name, son?"

"Gary."

"Gary, I want you to listen to me very carefully. You need to get Mr. Harris out of here."

"You can't leave us alone…you have to help."

John took a deep breath. "My son is down here somewhere...he's just a boy and he is in trouble…I have to find him."

"But…"

"Boy, I want you to listen up." John put on his no time for nonsense tone. "You will do as I say…take this flashlight. You go out of this door and go right, then left, then right and the way out will be right there. Wait for me by a huge oak tree that is about 1500 feet left of where you will come out. Go now!"

"Yes sir." Gary took the flashlight from John and grabbed a hold of Mr. Harris. "Come on, Mr. Harris…let's get you out of here."

Dean grabbed some candy and some jerky from his knapsack. "Here, it's not much, but I know you both need to eat."

"Thank you, son." Mr. Harris gratefully took the treats and shoved them in his pants pockets.  
"And when you find Larson…you make sure you put a bullet in his skull for me…will ya?"

"Who?"

"Frank Larson," Phillip spat out his name. "He slit Marcy's throat right in front of me."

Dean and John looked at each other.

Sam struggled for a few more moments and then looked up at the mothman. "Yes…I can understand you."

The mothman let out a soft purr and reached for Sam who cringed in fear, but then relaxed when the creature touched him gently on the cheek.

"Your diabetes instructor? That Frank Larson?"

"Yes."

John gave them an incredulous look. "What about the mothman?"

"He scared the hell out of me at first." Gary shrugged. "But he was actually kind of nice."

"A gentle soul."Phillip nodded in agreement. "And now we know that old story is true. Grace isn't going to believe it."

John put his hand on Gary's shoulder. "Go on, son…get to safety."

"Yes sir…come on, Mr. Harris."

"I saw you take that boy." Sam picked up his gun and pointed it at the creature. "What do you mean, he made you do it? Who made you do it?" He gave the creature an incredulous look as he heard the thoughts of the mothman in his mind. "The diabetes instructor? Seriously?" Sam shook his head. "Wait a minute…how the hell can I hear your thoughts?"

The mothman cocked his head and looked at the boy.

"You aren't sure why? I'm the first person you've been able to communicate with?" Sam scrunched up his face. "Well that doesn't make any sense." Then a thought came to him. "All those years ago, were you trying to warn those people that the bridge was going to collapse?"

The creature nodded.

"And no one could hear you? Have you tried to warn other people about different tragedies?" Sam put away his weapon. "So the lore is right…most people who have seen you thought you were just trying to communicate with them." He looked around. "I need to get back to my family."

The creature grabbed Sam's arm and looked at him pleadingly.

"Of course I will help you, but we can't do it alone…we need to find my Dad." Sam put a hand on the creature's arm. "No, don't be afraid…he can help and so can my brother. Take me to them."

Dean spotted a rickety wooden table in the corner and went over to it. "Aww…man…is that a kidney?"

John joined his son. "Afraid so, Dean."

"Yuck." Dean shined the flashlight around the room. "This is one sick puppy."

John nodded and looked at the various objects lying on the table. "This looks like the makings of a binding spell."

"A what?"

"It's a spell that can bind someone to another person."

"Can you make someone do stuff against their will after they are bound to you?"

"That's one use for it, yes."

"You think Larson used this binding spell to make the mothman kidnap people?"

"It's possible, son. We just don't know." John motioned towards the door. "We have to find your brother."

Dean nodded and they headed out to find Sam. "Sammy! Where are you?"

"Sam!" John shouted.

"Dad, this is hopeless…he could be anywhere." Dean shined the light around. "You don't think Larson has him?"

"God help him if he does."

"Dad!" Sam called out. "Dean! Where are you?"

"Sammy! Please son…answer me!" John and Dean continued down the long dark tunnel.

"Come on, Little Brother…where are you?"

"Dad!"

"Sammy?"

"I'm over here, Dad…over here!"

"Stay right where you are, son, but keep talking and we'll find you!"

"I have something to tell you about the mothman." Sam looked up at the creature. "He's not responsible for what happened…well, not really."

John shined the flashlight around.

"Dad!" Sam shouted and came running when he saw the light.

John practically picked Sam up off his feet. "Oh, Sammy…I was so worried." He held onto the boy for a few moments and then let him go.

Dean put his arm around his brother and squeezed him. "Hey ugly."

"Jerk." Sam grinned and then hugged his brother who in turn hugged him tightly.

"Woahhh," Dean yelled, grabbed his gun with one hand and shoved his brother behind him with the other. "Get back, youson of a bitch!" he threatened the creature who had stepped out into the beams of light.

"Wait, Dean don't!" Sam shouted. "He isn't a monster."

"Are you serious?" Dean looked at his little brother. "Of course he's a freakin' monster."

"Dad…please listen to me."

John had also drawn his weapon and was pointing it at the creature. "Dean, get your brother out of here now!"

Dean grabbed Sam by the arm, but the boy managed to break free and run in front of the mothman. "Dammit! You two are going to listen to me!"

"Sam!" John hissed. "Come over to me now!"

"No sir, not until you promise to listen to me."

John counted to ten. "Fine, I will listen." He gave Dean a look that said do not take your eyes or your gun off that thing.

Sam looked up at the mothman. "Do you have a name?" The boy smiled. "Liam…I like that."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Ah…Sammy, he didn't say anything?"

"Yeah, well that's part of what I wanted to tell you…I can hear his thoughts." Sam wrinkled his nose. "Apparently, I'm the first person who he has ever been able to communicate with."

"Why you?"

Sam shrugged. "He doesn't know."

"What else did he say, Sammy?" John asked.

"He said that Frank Larson made him kidnap those people…he has him under some sort of binding spell…whatever that is."

"Oh…that's a spell that binds someone to another person, they can make people do things against their will…you didn't know that?" Dean smiled cockily. "And you are supposed to be the smart one."

Sam eyed his brother suspiciously. "Dad tell you what it was?"

"No…of course not…" Dean looked down when Sam folded his arms. "Yes."

"Enough! We need to get out of here and get Phillip and Gary to the hospital. They need medical attention."

"But what about Liam? We have to help him, Dad."

"Sammy, we can't possibly take a seven foot tall moth back to the hotel with us."

"But I promised him, Dad."

"Sam, I am not going to argue with you. We must go, now!"

"Please, sir…I gave him my word."

John let out an exasperated sigh and looked at his watch. "It will be dark soon. I can't believe I am saying this…Liam, can you umm…fly Mr. Harris and Gary to the hospital? And then meet us out by the old Platt Bridge at midnight?"

The mothman nodded.

"Okay, we have to get in touch with Bobby and see if there is a way to break this binding spell. We also have to get to Larson. Now let's go!"

Everyone acknowledged John's order and they headed out.

Frank waited until they were gone and then he stepped out of the shadows. "So, they think it's going to be that easy, do they?" He grinned evilly.

The boys smiled happily upon finally seeing the impala. "Dad, you think on our next hunt we could do less hiking?"

"A lot less."Sam nodded in agreement.

John ignored them and took out his cell phone. "Bobby..."

"It's about damned time you called me."

"Sorry, Bobby, me and the boys have been in the woods. I didn't have a signal."

"Modern technology my ass…anyway, I ran down those list of names…nothing popped up on the members, but I got a hit on Larson. You ain't gonna believe me…"

"Try me…"

"I found three pictures of him in old scientific journalsand I compared them to a recent photo of him from an article about the hospital. John, it's the same man."

"And?"

"And…the journals were all from the 20's…only he went by the name Jack Mitchell. Now, I ain't no mathlete but that would make him well over 100 years old and he hasn't aged a day. He was some sort of college professor. He disappeared after an apparent string of deaths on the campus."

"Let me guess…all the victims were diabetic?"

"Yep…it's the damndest thing."

"Bobby, I need another favor. I need a way to undo a binding spell?"

Bobby sat back in his chair. "Gotta be more specific, John…there's an awful lot of binding spells out there."

John nodded. "This is one that was used to force someone to do harm."

"Give me a little time, I'll find it."

"Thanks, Bobby." John got in the car and started it up.

Sammy leaned on the front seat. "What did Uncle Bobby say, Dad?"

"He found pictures of Larson in old scientific journals, very old…like 70 years ago old."

"How old is Larson now?"

"About 50 and that's how old he was then too."

Dean started counting in his head. "Well that makes him like 120 years old."

"I didn't know you could count that high." Sam grinned.

"Very funny."

"That doesn't make sense."

"You're right, Sammy, it doesn't."

Dean looked at his father. "So what do we do now?"

"Bobby is checking on what we need to undo the binding spell. Once we have the list, I want you boys to find what we need and then head out to the old Platt Bridge."

"And what are you gonna do, Dad?" Sammy asked.

"I'm heading out to the Larson place and do a little investigating."

"Alone?"

John laughed. "I'm a big boy, Sammy…I think I can handle a little investigating. I will meet you at the bridge at midnight."

"Patchouli?"

"Gesundheit"

"Would you be serious please?" Sam scolded.

Dean grinned and took the paper. "We have some of this stuff in the trunk and I know where we can get the rest. Let's go."

John pulled his truck up to Larson's house. It was pitch dark and quiet. The hunter quickly made his way to the back of the house and picked the lock to the back door. He slipped inside, gun drawn and began looking around. He found some old books on the shelves, filled with symbols and ancient incantations. "Show me your secrets, you bastard," he whispered to the room. The eldest Winchester climbed the stairs, being careful not to make any sound. "Where are you hiding?" He asked the darkness, but didn't get any answer. After searching the entire upstairs, he made his way back down and headed for the basement. John opened the door, upon reaching the fourth step a thick smoke filled the air, he gasped for breath and tumbled down the rest of the steps…passing out at the bottom.

Sam looked around nervously as Dean disabled the alarm. "We are so gonna get caught."

"No, we aren't."

"Isn't it sacrilegious or something to break into a church?"

"Probably, but we'll just tell God we are really really sorry." Dean smirked. "Just give him your sad puppy dog face."He opened the door after successfully picking the lock.

"Shut up, jerk!"

"Sam! Language…it's a church!" Dean grinned. "Come on."

Sam looked up to the heavens. "Sorry."

Dean shined the flashlight around the room. "Bingo," he commented upon spying the candles, frankincense and myrrh. "We just need to find charcoal."

"I don't think priests bar-be-que."

"Come on…I bet they make great burgers…heavenly in fact." Dean laughed at his own joke.

Sam just shook his head.

"Let's get out of here."

The boys quickly made their way out of the church and jumped into the impala.

John came to awhile later and found himself tied to a pole. He began struggling, but it was no use the ropes weren't budging.

A familiar voice came from behind him. "Well, Agent Washington…so nice to see you again." Frank smiled. "Or should I call you Mike or Rick or perhaps Bill?"

"You can call me the person who is going to kill you."

"Now, that I would like to see you try, since you are a little tied up at the moment."

John smirked. "I am going to kill you, you sick bastard."

"Well, I'm sorry but my demise will have to wait…I have a date at midnight with two very handsome young men."

"You leave them alone…they are just boys. This is between me and you."

"I'm afraid those boys will never become men." Frank hissed and left the room leaving John struggling ferociously against the ropes.

"You son of a bitch! I will kill you! You hear…I am going to rip your heart out with my bare hands!"

Liam hid quietly behind some tall trees and waited. He ducked down upon seeing the headlights, but then smiled when he recognized the boys.

"Liam! Are you here? Liam?" Sam called out.

The mothman came out slowly and cocked his head.

"Well, hello to you too, Liam." Sam smiled. "Did you get Mr. Harris and Gary to the hospital?"

Liam nodded.

Dean checked his watch. "It's not like Dad to be late." He looked around. "Well, I guess we should just do this without him…let's party."

The boys quickly grabbed all the ingredients and set it up on top of a boulder by the bridge. "Okay." Sam lit the three candles and read the paper. "It says we need a lock of his hair."

"Ah…Sam, he is a moth."

Sam looked up at Liam. "How about a piece of your wing? Think that'll work?"

Dean shrugged. "Worth a shot."

Liam knelt down and Dean snipped a small piece of one of his wings. Sam lit the charcoal and dropped it into the bowl. "Okay here goes nothing." He pricked Liam's finger and added three drops of blood into the smoldering incense. "With blood, candle and scent times three. No longer shall this binding be. Free to live and free to soar…"

Frank came out of the darkness and pointed a gun at the boys. "Back away from that altar!"

The mothman stared at Frank, but was powerless to do anything. He looked at Sam.

"It's Larson."

"Take it easy, Larson." Dean said, but then quickly rushed the man, knocking him to the ground. Frank got up and began fighting with him. "Finish the spell, Sammy!" He ordered and punched Frank, causing the man to start bleeding from his nose. They continued to struggle precariously near the edge of the embankment.

Sam hesitated, wanting to help his brother.

"Now, Sammy…finish it!"

"Free to live and free to soar. As I burn this wing, a part of me…let my heart and soul be free!" Sam quickly spread the ashes around the mothman.

After a few moments, Liam raised his hands above his head, the bindings shone just for a moment in the moonlight and then dissolved. He immediately turned his glowing red eyes onto Frank who began to cower and back away slowly.

"No, wait, please…"

Liam picked up the man, tore him in two and then threw him over the bridge and down into the river. He then turned to Dean and helped him to stand, touching his face gently. He purred and then smiled.

"He says thank you." Sammy smiled.

"Anytime." Dean wiped his bloody mouth on his jacket. After he caught his breath, he looked at his watch. "It's almost 1 a.m…and Dad's not here…something's wrong."

"We have to find, Dad!" Sam looked towards the embankment. "If Larson knew we were here…then he could of hurt, Dad. We have to go!"

"Focus!" Dean put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam nodded.

Dean smiled at his brother "We will find him…don't worry. Liam, do you know where Larson lived?"

Liam nodded at Sam.

"He says he can take us there."

"Okay, then we will follow you." Dean and Sam got in the impala and sped off, keeping a close eye on their flying guide.

"Dad!" Dean shouted as he entered the house."Dad!"

"Dad!"

"Boys?" John asked upon hearing his sons voices. "Down here! In the basement!"

The boys quickly opened the basement door and ran down the steps. They went over and untied their father who immediately scooped them both into his arms, kissing the tops of their heads. "Oh thank God…you're alright." He held onto them for quite sometime before he finally let them go.

"Are you okay, Dad?"

John nodded. "I'm fine, Dean. What happened to Larson?"

"Dead."

"Liam?"

"Binding spell broken." Sam replied

John folded his arms. "Well, you two had a busy night…didn't you?"

The boys smiled. "Yes sir."

"Come on, you can tell your old man all about it while we cover our tracks."

A little while later, John and the boys found Liam watching the house from the woods. "We wanted to say goodbye before we left, Liam." Sammy reached out a hand to shake, but the creature drew the boy into a hug, enveloping him in his powerful wings.

"You are free now, Liam. I don't normally let the creatures that I hunt go, but you have more than proven you are not a monster." John folded his arms. "Don't make me regret my decision."

Liam nodded.

Sam giggled.

"Why are you giggling, son?"

"He said…yes sir."

John and the boys laughed.

Liam cocked his head and purred.

"I will miss you too." Sam smiled.

The mothman gave one final nod to his new friends, flapped his wings and disappeared into the night sky.

"You think he will be okay?"

John put an arm around his son's shoulders. "He will be fine, Sammy. Thanks to you and your brother…you boys did good, real good."

"Thanks, Dad." Sam smiled. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, son."

"Why do you think I am the first person Liam was able to communicate with?"

Dean grinned. "Because you are a freak."

"Dean!" John scolded.

"Sorry, sir."

John smiled at his son. "Maybe because you were the first person willing to listen?"

Sam thought about it for a moment…deep down he felt like there was another reason, something he couldn't explain, but he returned his father's smile. "Maybe you are right."

After getting some sleep and a hot meal, Dean found Sam sitting on the hood of the impala lost in thought. He soon joined his brother. "What's the matter, Little Brother?"

"I was just thinking."

"If it's about me calling you a freak…I'm sorry…I shouldn't have said that."

Sam shook his head. "No, not about that…I was wondering if you were still mad at me for telling Dad about your gun? I didn't mean to…honest."

Dean punched his brother playfully on his arm. "Already forgotten."

"You sure?"

"What do you want to do…kiss and make up?"

"You are such an ass!"

Dean grinned.

John came out a few minutes later, carrying three beers and a well worn journal. "Either of you tell your Uncle Bobby and I will make your lives miserable…you hear?" he said and handed the boys the beer.

The boys gave their solemn promises not to and opened the bottles.

"I think I have figured out Larson's secret."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "What was it?"

"Apparently, he was an alchemist, who if I am reading these incantations correctly…discovered the Elixir of Life."

"The Elixir of Life?"

"Yes, Sammy, it's the potion which gives anyone who drinks it eternal life. There have been legends and stories about this secret brew since the beginning of time."

"So Larson discovered the formula?"

"It would explain his never aging a day in 70 years, Dean."

Dean nodded. "It had something to do with the diabetics and eating them. That we know for sure."

"So what is it, Dad?"

John took out his lighter and lit the edges of the journal. "Evil…Sammy…pure evil." He threw the journal onto the ground and they all watched it burn. "And no one will ever get their hands on it." He scattered the ashes with his boots. "Time to pack your gear and head out."

"Yes sir," the boys replied.

Sam started heading into the room, but then stopped. "Dad, are you going to punish me?"

"For what, son?"

"For disobeying you in the tunnel when you told me to come over to you and I didn't."

John cocked his head slightly and looked at his son. "You did ignore a direct order, didn't you?"

"Yes sir."

"But you did it to fight for a friend who was in trouble."

"Yes sir."

"I can't punish you for that, son." John smiled. "And sometimes your old man can be a little stubborn."

"Just a little stubborn?"

John put an arm around his son's neck, brought him closer and rested his chin in his hair. "Helping Liam was the right call."

"Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome, son. However, there is another matter I need to discuss before we leave." John went over to his truck. He grabbed something from back. "Dean Winchester, front and center," he bellowed. "You too, Sam."

Dean halted just as he got to the hotel door, turned around, came over to his father and stood in front of him. Sam followed suit .

John handed Dean his gun.

"How did you find it?"

"Mr. Watkins found it. I just didn't know how you really lost it, until Sammy let it slip and I certainly didn't buy the bull you two tried to feed me." John folded his arms. "I want no more of this one lies and the other one swears to it, nonsense…do you both understand me?"

"Yes sir."

"Good."

"And being careless with your weapons, totally unacceptable."

"Yes sir."

"I trust this will be the last time we ever have this conversation?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. A five mile hike everyday at 0400 should help you both to remember, not to mention get you in better shape….you two could barely keep up with your old man…I think you are both getting a little soft."

Sam scrunched up his face. "For how long?"

"Until I say otherwise, young man."

The boys sighed, but then straightened up when they saw the look on John's face.

"Good, now go pack!"

"Yes sir."

John laughed as the sounds of his son's arguing over whose fault everything was filled the air. He leaned against the impala and took another sip of beer. "I wouldn't trade them for the world, Mary." He smiled one last time and headed in to pack his stuff.


End file.
